But I want to know whether in such an event you would stand by me?” She held out her hand. "You are my prisoner. The man was mad to marry me. Without turning or looking in his direction she leaned forwards, her head supported upon her fingers, her elbows upon her knees. From the freshness of the stains, which grew more frequent as they approached the adjoining chamber, it was evident some violence had been recently perpetrated, and the carpenter's own blood froze within his veins as he thought, with a thrill of horror, that, perhaps on this very spot, not many minutes before his arrival, his adopted son might have been inhumanly butchered.
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